Strings Of Harmony

♫9♫ Dancing Like A Bird That Can't Fly

Chapter Nine

Dancing Like A Bird That Can't Fly

“Hey, wake up!” I heard someone shout, as I felt my bed shake from some sort of heavy movement.

“What?” I asked, groggily, as I sat up and rubbed my eyes.

“Jules, Jules, Jules! Guess what day it is today?” asked the overly excited voice.

I thought for a moment. Like I said before, I’m not much of a morning person. “Um…I think it’s a Tuesday, if I’m correct.”

“Well duh! But elaborate Tuesday.”

I blinked a few times, trying to get the stupid eye poop or whatever-the-heck-they-were-called out of my eyes before I tilted my face up to look at the person who was jumping up-and-down on my bed.

It was Ivy.

Of course it’d be her. Only she would show up in my bedroom at—

“Six thirty?” I practically screeched, as I shifted my attention from my clock to my friend.

She pretended to have not noticed the furious look on my face as she said, in an innocent tone, “What about it?”

I groaned and grabbed the pillow that was underneath my head. Clenching it in my right hand, I threw it at Ivy. Rather than hitting her face, though—the place where I had initially intended to aim for—the pillow had hit her chest instead.

“Oh my god, that hurts so badly; I think I need an ambulance,” said Ivy, feigning hurt and talking in a sarcastic tone.

“You know perfectly well what I’m referring to here!” I said, glaring at her. “You know how cranky I am if I don’t get my twelve hours of sleep.”

Ivy rolled her eyes. “Puh-lease, you’re such a sloth. Get up woman.”

“There’s no school and last time I checked, I don’t have a summer job. So why should I get up?” I crossed my arms and laid them defiantly over my chest.

Ivy face palmed herself and groaned. “You have got to be kidding me.”

“Nope; I’m being deadbeat serious here. I have no idea why you’re here at six in the morning, jumping excitedly on my bed, and dressed up so…” My voice trailed off as I assessed her outfit.

She had on white shorts and a cute, pink chiffon shirt. Her hair was done carefully into a side braid and her make-up easily reflected the colors of summer: she had on pink eye shadow, light pink lip gloss, and dark purple-colored mascara.

“Yeah…so why are you dressed up so nicely?” I looked confusingly at her.

“Guess.”

“Isn’t it pretty obvious I don’t know the answer?”

“Well it’s not obvious until you make a guess, now is it?” Ivy smirked at me.

“Fine then—Let me take a guess!” I said, throwing my hands up exasperatingly. “There’s some sort of beach party you’re taking me to.”

Ivy scoffed and said, “I wish…but no, that is not the reason why I am in your bedroom at six in the morning and wearing such uh…‘summery’ clothing.”

“Just tell me, goddammit.”

“Jules, it’s been a week since we last auditioned.”

“I’m pretty sure I know—”

“And do you know what happens a week after the auditions?” continued Ivy, ignoring my comment.

I mulled over her words. What the heck is she talking about?